


Naïveté

by WahlBuilder



Category: The Technomancer (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Fluff without Plot, Gangs, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 13:11:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17704883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WahlBuilder/pseuds/WahlBuilder
Summary: Zhenya is one of the most feared people in the Ophirian underground.





	Naïveté

**Author's Note:**

> Written for OC Kiss Week 2019.

Zhenya is not tall, not big, not physically intimidating in any way. Zhenya doesn’t glare, Zhenya’s voice wouldn’t bring a chill. Zhenya doesn’t threaten, doesn’t boast. Zhenya is naive sometimes, and oblivious.

And yet Zhenya is one of the most feared people in the Ophirian underground.

Zhenya is a tax collector.

Well, actually, a _former_ tax collector, and legally, Zhenya has died a gruesome death at the hands of Anton Rogue, with the only thing left being a bit of a pinky finger. But Zhenya is very much alive, all pinkies whole.

To find Zhenya on your doorstep is either the worst or the best thing in your life.

It depends.

Zhenya remembers everything that is phrased in legal terms: statutes, decrees, provisions, notes, deeds, deals, contracts… Zhenya calculates well. You wouldn’t get away with hiding even one Serum.

Anton is not unkind, and Zhenya carries Anton’s will to the most unfortunate, restructuring or forgiving debts, giving taxation advice. Zhenya’s always white shirt and an oversized Vory jacket can send the most brutal thugs scuttling and give hope to those who couldn’t afford it.

“…It will be fine. And I will send someone to fix the heating.” Zhenya nods to all the ‘thank you’s, ducks his head, then leaves the small building.

It is a rather derelict house. Abundance doesn’t care. The last quake has ruined the infrastructure in the neighborhood, and the tenants had to spend their savings on fixing it—and missed their payments to the Vory.

But Anton Rogue is not unkind.

Zhenya heads down the street, flipping through their notebook and trying not to trip over anything. Then they slow down and finally stop, putting the notebook away. “You really shouldn’t try that, friends.” They turn round to two tall and heavy thugs, slapping pieces of piping on their palms like that’s the proper thing to do to a piece of plumbing.

Zhenya has been through this many times now, and at least it doesn’t make their knees buckle anymore.

“And why shouldn’t we, little thing, huh?”

“Because we can still be friends,” they tell their would-be-attackers.

One of them rolls their eyes, and Zhenya hastens to add, “No, really! We can! And if you are, as I see, good at plumbing, you could help around here!” Zhenya smiles, hoping to convince the pair. Zhenya knows, though, that their power of convincing isn’t as good as Anton’s.

The pair peers at them wide-eyed, then one of them snorts. “What? Do you understand what’s going on? We don’t want you here, Vor!”

Zhenya grips their jacket close. “Oh no. Please, don’t do it.”

One of the pair grins and advances on Zhenya, swinging the pipe. “Oh yes, little thing, we are—”

Hands grip the shoulders of the pair, so tightly that one of them drops the weapon.

“Нужно было послушаться Женечку,” a voice growls from behind them. “И мы бы стали друзьями.”

Zhenya looks away, though not fast enough to not glimpse how the pair gets their heads knocked. Zhenya hears the heavy thump of two bodies falling on the ground, and then the ringing and clanging of many chains.

For someone nearly three times bigger than Zhenya, and carrying as many chains about his person as Zhenya’s weight, Misha can move really quietly when he wants to.

When Zhenya turns to him, Misha is pocketing a few Serum chips. The pipes are twisted into knots.

At least the pair is breathing.

Misha gets up and walks to Zhenya and looks them over with a concerned frown—a frown that usually sends people screaming. He has that kind of personality. Misha wears his long hair in a braid, there are heavy, thick chains wrapped about his forearm and shoulder under the wide sleeves of his black jacket.

Misha fixes Zhenya’s jacket collar. “You okay?”

“They didn’t do anything, you saw that!”

“Yeah, but they _wanted_ to, Genko.”

They bite their lip, then make a swiping gesture at the bodies. “Maybe they… they wanted to ask for directions.”

Misha smiles. It’s nearly lost in his bushy black beard. “Oh Genko. You know they didn’t. Come on, I’m hungry.”

Zhenya punches him on the forearm. “You always are. You eat more than your daughter, and _she_ is the one growing!”

“Obviously, _you_ didn’t eat everything you were supposed to.”

“I did!” they huff. They think of another rebuttal, when a hand lands on their shoulder (gently) and Misha pecks them on the cheek, his beard scratching against their skin.

“You need more. Boss’s orders.”

And nobody questions the Boss.

They huff again. “You are paying, then.” Their cheeks are burning.

**Author's Note:**

> Zhenya is The Technomancer Discord server collective OC.


End file.
